


like real people do

by verdanthoney



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drinking, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Zukka Week 2021, bumi is actually the star of this fic, sorry i dont make the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 18:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30093372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verdanthoney/pseuds/verdanthoney
Summary: Sokka knew he would be dealing with a raging case of baby fever during their annual vacation on Ember Island. What he didn’t expect was to discover that he was also hopelessly in love with Zuko, and had been for years without realizing.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 303





	like real people do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bleekay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleekay/gifts).



> as soon as i saw [this art](https://bleekay.tumblr.com/post/643454127537586176) by blee, i knew i had to write something for it. that's how this monstrosity was born. it's also my zukka week fic for the 'friends to lovers' prompt! blee, if ur reading this, i am gifting it to you <3
> 
> please check out that art, because it really captures the essence of this fic. i hope the kiss scene i wrote here does it justice!!
> 
> maybe this was also inspired by the fact that i have baby fever at the ripe age of 20 years old. no i dont want to talk about it. speaking of age, sokka and zuko are around 27/28 in this, and it takes place roughly 12 years after the war has ended.
> 
> highly recommend listening to 'like real people do' by hozier either before or after reading :)
> 
> not beta read, all mistakes are mine. enjoy!!

“Are we there yet?”

“No, Toph,” Katara sighed, bouncing a fussy Bumi on her lap. The toddler thrashed, a whine escaping his lips. For the past two hours, he’d been itching to walk around the saddle.

Sokka could relate. 

“Seriously, are we close? I’m bored,” he groaned, stretching his legs out in front of him. They bumped into Toph’s and she kicked him in the shin. He scowled at her and jerked his leg back. 

Apparently, they didn’t all fit on Appa’s saddle together as well as they used to.

“We should be there in a couple hours!” Aang called back from his spot on Appa’s neck. He twisted in his seat to check on everyone and coo down at Bumi. Sokka spotted Momo flitting through the clouds nearby.

“If you’re bored, we can arm wrestle,” Suki offered, leaning into his side.

“You always beat me,” he said with a pout, though her light laughter in response replaced it with a smile.

“I’ll take you up on that,” Toph said, sitting up. She planted an elbow on Sokka’s lap, arm up. Suki mirrored her on his other thigh.

“No way, you are _not_ using my thighs as leverage!”

Toph and Suki clasped hands. “Too late,” Toph said with a smug grin.

His holler of pain as they began their competition was lost to the wind, Aang’s giggling, and Katara yelling at them to cut it out.

* * *

When they finally arrived at Ember Island, the sun was low in the sky, casting the beach in an orange glow. Appa landed in the sand at the bottom of the craggy hill where Zuko’s childhood vacation home sat, a loud groan escaping him as they finally relieved him of their weight. Toph swung herself off the saddle as soon as Appa’s feet touched the ground, flopping on her back in the warm sand with a relieved sigh. Sokka rolled his eyes and took care not to squish her as he got off. Katara carefully handed Bumi down to him. He smiled at his nephew, who was all drool and tired eyes and chubby cheeks. Unable to help himself, he pinched one, coaxing a squeal from the toddler.

Quick footsteps sounded behind him, and he knew who it was before he turned to see. Zuko was jogging down the winding path from his house. It looked like he was holding himself back from a full sprint, though he was doing a poor job of hiding it. The blinding grin on his face gave it all away.

None of them had seen Zuko in almost half a year because they were all so busy. Aang and Katara had their hands full with a toddler and their duties, Sokka with his projects in the Southern Water Tribe, Toph with her metalbending academy, and Suki with the Kyoshi Warriors. Zuko, of course, was helping his uncle run the Fire Nation. Iroh served as Fire Lord, dealing with the Council and big decision making from Caldera, while Zuko was occupied with extensive travel between the entirety of the Fire Nation and the colonies in the Earth Kingdom to figure out directly what people needed. The information he gathered was used to supplement Iroh’s decisions, an arrangement that worked out in everyone’s favor after the war ended. But Zuko had been doing so much running around over the years that he hardly had time to visit his friends.

Their inability to see each other often was exactly why they were congregating. A few years after the war ended and the world had settled down a little, they declared an annual week-long vacation in Ember Island to take a break from their lives and play catch-up. Spirits knew they deserved it after everything they’d been through, from ending the war to maintaining the fragile peace afterwards. It had been eight years since their first vacation; eight years which had passed all too quickly.

Sokka found that he cherished their time together more the older he became.

Zuko reached the bottom of the hill, barefoot and panting, and crashed into Aang just as he hopped down from Appa. Aang stumbled from the force of it, laughing, and wrapped his long arms around Zuko, resting his chin on top of his head. They rocked together for a moment. 

Zuko cleared his throat and pulled back, an embarrassed hunch to his shoulders. His hair was in a neat top knot that left the blush spreading over the back of his neck on full display. Sokka smirked at the sight of it.

“Uh, hi.” Zuko said, glancing at the rest of them.

They all chuckled, and he glared half-heartedly before hugging Katara next. She rubbed a hand over his back, and Sokka could hear the amusement in her voice as she said, “Hello to you too, Zuko.”

“How was the trip?” Zuko asked.

“Long,” Toph grunted, still on the ground. Suki and Sokka nodded in agreement.

Zuko snorted and turned to Sokka, but he only had eyes for Bumi in his arms. He stepped forward and scooped the toddler up, resting him on his hip.

“Hey, kiddo,” he murmured, a soft smile on his face. Bumi gurgled, reaching up to tug at a loose strand of Zuko’s hair. Something in Sokka’s stomach fluttered at the sight. He blamed it on the fact that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

“Wow, Zuko. I missed you _so_ much too, thanks for the hug! It’s not like its been six months or anything–”

Zuko rolled his eyes and tugged him into a one-armed hug. Sokka grinned and squeezed him closer, reaching down with his other arm to poke Bumi in the stomach. Bumi squeaked and kicked out reflexively, making Zuko laugh.

The warmth disappeared from Sokka’s side as Zuko moved to give Suki a hug and a kiss on the temple. He nudged Toph with his foot in greeting, and she punched him in the leg in return. No one batted an eye at the exchange; it was basically routine.

“C’mon, I have to finish making dinner,” Zuko said as he began to make his way back up the path.

“I can carry Bumi–”

“I’ve got him, Katara,” he said, shooting a smile at her over his shoulder. “Right, little one?”

Bumi babbled nonsense, reaching for more of Zuko’s hair. Zuko hiked him higher up on his hip, murmuring to him quietly, his low voice unintelligible as they walked further away. Again, Sokka felt something stir in his belly.

“Well, I’m starving,” he announced loudly. He grabbed his pack and marched after the pair, the rest of his friends following close behind.

* * *

Dinner was a long affair, mostly due to the fact that they did more talking than eating. Discussions about politics turned into loud storytelling, and raucous laughter accompanied by the occasional excited shriek from Bumi filled the air of Zuko’s spacious dining room. Sokka popped another bite of charred fish into his mouth, leaning back in his chair contentedly. They’d only been there for a few hours and he was already more relaxed than he had felt in months. These vacations were perhaps one of the best ideas they’d ever had as a group.

Inevitably, the topic of conversation drifted to Bumi. None of them were able to resist fawning over the toddler. When Katara and Aang had announced they were expecting, it seemed their friends were even more excited than the parents themselves, much to their amusement. That hadn’t changed as he grew older. Ever since he was born, he’d been showered with an endless wave of love and affection.

Zuko propped his chin in his hands and smiled over at Bumi, sitting a few seats down from his spot at the head of the table. “He’s gotten so big since the last time I saw him.”

“I know,” Aang sighed wistfully, “he’s growing up so fast. I wish I could slow time down.”

“You can’t have _everything_ , Twinkle Toes,” Toph said. Aang flicked his hand at her, and a blast of air blew her bangs out of her face. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“He’s big enough to be a menace,” Katara said, looking at her son fondly as he squished a piece of fruit into the table. “Ever since he started walking, I can barely keep up with him.”

“I wonder who he gets that from,” Zuko muttered, hiding his grin behind his hand.

Aang pouted. “You guys are being so mean.”

“Hey, for all we know, he could have gotten it from his uncle,” Suki said, glancing at Sokka from across the table.

Sokka laced his fingers over his chest and narrowed his eyes at her. “Actually, I was an _extremely_ well-behaved child, thank you very much.” 

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe,” Zuko said innocently. Sokka whipped his glare over to him.

“You’d be right!” Katara said with an impish grin. “Have I ever told you guys about the time he–”

“Okay, no. We are not telling embarrassing stories from our childhood.”

“Why not?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I have way more embarrassing stories about you than you do about me, and I don’t want you to get mad at me and ruin the night.”

Katara twirled the water from her glass around one of her fingers. “You keep telling yourself that,” she said, yawning.

“Are you guys tired?” Zuko asked, standing up to gather the empty dishes he could reach. 

“They’re only tired already because they’re old and Bumi sucks the life out of them,” Toph directed at Zuko, propping her feet up on the table.

“We’re the same age, Toph,” Aang grumbled, though he had bags under his eyes and he, too, was yawning a moment later.

Suki hefted Bumi onto her lap. “Aren’t you just an exhausting little thing,” she uttered, in a tone of voice that everyone used to talk to babies. Bumi, quiet now and obviously sleepy, hid his face in Suki’s neck. Sokka watched them, unable to help the small smile quirking at the corners of his mouth.

Zuko’s arm reaching over his shoulder to grab his plate made him jump. He tilted his head back, only to see Zuko looking between him and Suki with a knowing smirk. Sokka raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say _what?_ Zuko glanced pointedly at Suki, then back at him.

He must’ve caught Sokka staring.

Look, Sokka would be lying if he said he still didn’t think about Suki sometimes. They’d broken up shortly after the war ended when it became clear that they had too many urgent peacetime commitments, leaving no room for a relationship. He was fine with just being her best friend after all these years, and he really had no desire to pursue something more with her. But seeing her hold a baby was _doing_ things to his traitorous, aging mind, and of course Zuko had noticed. 

He said nothing more as he retreated to the kitchen, and Sokka didn’t follow him or bother to correct his suspicion.

Later that night, long after everyone else had gone to bed, he made his way down to the beach. Traveling on Appa for days on end had left him so restless that sleep evaded him completely. Plus, his room was uncomfortably hot. The sand, cool with the night air, soothed his overheated skin as he sat in it. He leaned back on his palms and gazed up at the moon, slightly shrouded in clouds but still bright as ever. His heart twinged with an old ache at the sight of her, and he sighed, flopping back in the sand. 

His new vantage point allowed him to see that Zuko was silently picking his way down the trail, heading straight towards him. The neck of a wine bottle swung from his fingertips. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Sokka asked, as Zuko carefully sat next to him. 

“Nope. I saw that you came down here and followed you.”

He noted with amusement that the bottle of wine was already open and Zuko’s lips were stained red. 

“Are you drunk?”

Zuko ignored the question, and instead asked, "Want some?”

He thrust the bottle in Sokka’s direction. The wine inside sloshed noisily with the jerky movement. Their fingers brushed when Sokka took it, propping himself up on one elbow so he could bring it to his mouth for a tentative sip. It was plum wine, sweet and rich. He hummed and allowed himself a bigger mouthful.

Zuko stared out at the waves lapping gently against the shore, fingers tracing absent patterns in the sand between them. “So. You and Suki, huh?”

Sokka laughed quietly. “If you’re wondering if we’re back together, the answer is no,” he said, taking another sip.

“But you want to be?” Zuko asked.

Sokka tilted his head. “Why do you say that?”

“The way you were looking at her earlier, I guess.”

“Oh.”

He set the bottle down next to him and lay back in the sand again. Zuko mimicked him.

“Do you still love her?” Zuko asked, looking at him with wide, curious eyes. 

Sokka smirked. “You’re such a gossip when you’re drunk.”

“‘M not that drunk, shut up,” Zuko muttered, nudging him with his foot. “Stop avoiding the question.”

“I wasn’t avoiding it,” he groaned. “It’s just– I don’t know. I’ll always love Suki, but I’m happy with how our relationship is right now.”

“What is it, then?”

Sokka paused, then sighed. “It’s that damn kid.”

“Bumi?”

“Yeah. I’ve got baby fever. Bad.”

Zuko was silent for a moment, then he burst into laughter, clutching his stomach.

Sokka rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”

After a minute, Zuko’s snickering died down. He took a deep breath, though it was still stuttering with laughter and said, “Sorry. I don’t know why I thought that was so funny.”

Sokka tapped the wine bottle. “I know why.”

“I’m _not_ drunk,” Zuko whined.

“What were you drinking by yourself for, anyways?”

“I thought it would help me relax. Your arrival made me too excited to sleep.”

Sokka grinned to himself. Although Zuko claimed to not be drunk, he’d certainly had enough wine to let an admission like that slip. Not that it had been a secret that he was happy to see them all in the first place. He recalled the last letter he’d exchanged with Zuko; it was an update on his travels in the colonies, line after line of boring political jargon. But at the end of the letter, Zuko had tacked on a message that he was looking forward to their vacation, and Sokka knew that was his way of expressing his enthusiasm.

“Well, it’s the middle of the night,” Sokka said, glancing once again at the moon high in the sky, “and I think you’ve had enough to put you to bed. C’mon, up.”

He stood and dusted the sand off his clothes before holding an arm out to Zuko. Zuko used it to haul himself up, stumbling into Sokka’s chest. Sokka planted his heels in the sand and put a steadying hand on Zuko’s shoulder before they could both fall backwards. 

_Not drunk, my ass_ , he thought fondly.

Zuko murmured an apology around a yawn. Sokka huffed out a laugh and bent to pick up the wine bottle.

“You’re such a lightweight. Let’s go.”

They took on a slow pace as they walked back up to the house, arms and hands brushing occasionally. Sokka had the strange urge to hook their fingers together, but he pushed it down. Zuko definitely wouldn’t appreciate that, and he wasn’t sure why the thought popped into his head in the first place.

The interior of the house was much more welcoming than it used to be. He remembered the first time he stepped foot inside all those years ago and being particularly put off by the obnoxious amount of burgundy everywhere, not to mention the gaudy royal decorations. Over the years, Zuko had purged the home of any reminder of his childhood, replacing old relics with trinkets from his travels in the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation. Theater masks adorned the walls, accompanied by beautiful paintings and tapestries. Even a sloppy charcoal sketch of the beach that Sokka had made was proudly displayed with the professional art, along with other traces of their friends. The lumpy blanket Aang had created from Appa’s hair was folded lovingly over the futon, and various ugly metal sculptures that Toph had gifted Zuko sat in odd places.

The house was theirs as much as it was Zuko’s. Sokka had grown to love it, and now it was effortless to let the weight of the world slide off his shoulders for one week out of the year while he spent time with his family.

Zuko’s room was facing the beach on the opposite side of the house from the guest rooms, where Sokka was staying. Before they parted ways, he crossed his arms and leaned against a wooden column, settling his tired, heavy-lidded stare on Sokka. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” Sokka drawled. Zuko’s lips twitched as he fought a smile, and it felt like a victory.

“Are you going to have kids?”

Sokka raised his eyebrows. “Well, yeah. I want to. But it kind of requires more than one person, you know?”

Zuko’s shoulders slumped a little and he looked down at the floor, nodding. “Right.”

Confused by Zuko’s sudden shift in demeanor, Sokka asked, “Do you want kids?”

“I do,” Zuko said, crossed arms tightening over his chest, “I just don’t think I’ll ever have any.”

“What? Why not?”

Sokka frowned, moving closer to his friend, only for Zuko to straighten up and take a step backwards in the direction of his bedroom.

“It doesn’t matter,” he sighed, eyes finally meeting Sokka’s again.

It was obvious that Zuko didn’t want to talk about it, and as much as he wanted to help, Sokka decided not to push. He took a step back towards his own bedroom, hoping the distance would make Zuko relax a little. To his relief, the stiffness left Zuko’s frame, and he swayed on his feet. Sokka suddenly remembered the bottle of wine he was holding, eyes lingering on the tint of plum that darkened Zuko’s lips.

“You don’t have to tell me now, but I’ll figure it out,” Sokka said, squinting and pointing a finger at Zuko. “Ember Island always–”

“–reveals the true you. I know, Sokka. You remind me every year we come here,” Zuko muttered, feigning annoyance, though Sokka knew he found it amusing whenever he mentioned the old saying, skeptic that he was. Of course, Sokka didn’t believe it one bit, but ever since Zuko had told him the ridiculous myth, he found joy in bringing it up whenever he could.

Sokka began a slow backwards walk to his room, holding Zuko’s gaze. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered.

“Goodnight,” Zuko replied, voice low and barely audible. He disappeared into the shadows.

Sokka made a pit stop to the kitchen where, sure enough, there was a lone cork sitting on the counter. He snorted and pushed it back into the mouth of the bottle before heading back to his room.

As he attempted to get comfortable in bed, his mind drifted to what Zuko had said. He wasn’t exactly sure why Zuko thought he would never have kids; there could be a lot of reasons. For one, he didn’t have the _best_ father figure growing up, and that was putting it lightly. If he thought about it too much, his blood would start to boil, so he moved on to the next thing. Which was the fact that, as far as Sokka knew, Zuko hadn’t been in a relationship in years. Unsurprising, considering he worked himself to the bone. Knowing Zuko, he probably thought his role in the post-war peace was too important to sacrifice for the happiness that a relationship and a child would seem to bring him.

Or maybe, it was simply that he didn’t think he was cut out to be a father. Frankly, Sokka found that ridiculous. Zuko had been amazing with Bumi from the moment the kid was born, and it seemed like it all came second-nature to him to everyone’s surprise. Cranky, hotheaded, impatient Zuko was better with kids than Sokka could have ever imagined he would be. Even when he visited the Southern Water Tribe, children seemed to follow him around like little arctic hens, begging for his attention, or for him to do another trick with his pretty fire. He obliged every time, because he was a pushover, and Sokka knew he enjoyed their excitement and the looks of wonder they gave him based on the soft smile that spread over his face every time he was in their presence.

It took him a moment to realize that thoughts of Zuko being so perfect with children had brought a silly grin to his own face in the lonely darkness of his room, and he let it drop with a sigh. The incessant feeling of butterflies in his stomach from earlier in the night had returned as well. His baby fever must be truly messing with his head if those thoughts had elicited such a reaction from him.

He buried his face in his pillow and told himself that he would get to the bottom of what Zuko had meant. But first, relaxation and sleep were his priorities. He _was_ on vacation, after all.

It seemed that neither would be achievable that night when, right before he drifted off, Bumi began screaming down the hall, effectively waking the whole house up. He pulled his pillow over his head and resigned himself to not getting any rest.

* * *

Usually, Sokka despised the heat of Ember Island. After a morning spent sparring with Suki and Toph, however, the warmth of the sun burning through his muscles down to his very bones was a welcome reprieve from the soreness of his body. Besides, there was a light breeze coming off the water that kept him from getting too hot. He stretched his arms above his head with a groan before folding his hands over his stomach, relaxing into the giant beach blanket that they had spread out over the sand. Momo, sunbathing behind him, served as a comfortable pillow with only a small chirp of complaint.

“How are you feeling?” Suki asked, plopping down next to him and nudging his side. He cracked one eye open to see her offering him a drink.

“Pretty tender,” he admitted, sitting up to take the drink from her. 

The first sip was fruity and delicious. He gulped down half the cup in one go, only to regret it when somehow, Toph poked exactly where there was a darkening, painful bruise on his arm that she had inflicted earlier with a well-aimed rock. He inhaled sharply and began to choke.

“Tender, huh? Did that hurt?” she asked, grinning smugly.

“Yes,” he hissed, soothing a hand over the bruise when he was finished coughing. Suki laughed into her own cup, reaching across him to shove one into Toph’s hands as well.

“I will say, you can take a beating better than some of my lily-liver students.”

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment even though you’re an asshole,” he grumbled.

“I’m gonna have to agree with Toph. You never complain when I go too hard, unlike my girls,” Suki said. She perked up suddenly and pointed out at the water. “Look at Bumi! He’s so cute.”

Sokka followed her eyes until they landed on Aang, Bumi, and Zuko in the shallows. Aang was standing in ankle-deep water, bent over as he held Bumi’s hands to steady him against the gentle waves. Zuko sat in the water next to them, smiling up at Aang through their conversation. In the distance, Katara could be seen performing some elaborate waterbending moves where the water was much deeper.

He watched as Bumi broke away from Aang’s hands and stumbled towards Zuko, the waves making him clumsier than he already was. Zuko caught him with two big hands around his waist before he dove head-first into the water, head thrown back in laughter. His shiny black hair was loose and hung down his back, shifting gently in the light wind. Sokka’s eyes focused on the strong muscles of Zuko’s shoulders rippling under his skin as he lifted Bumi into his lap. Despite the fact that he’d just had a long drink, his mouth felt suddenly dry.

“He’s doing it again, isn’t he?” Toph sighed, sounding bored.

“Yes, he is,” Suki said.

Sokka blinked and ripped his attention away from Zuko, looking first to Suki, then Toph. “Who’s doing what?”

“Oh, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. That’s hilarious,” Toph cackled, flopping back on the blanket.

“What are you talking about?” he groaned. He loved Toph and Suki, but together, they were definitely menaces. And possibly bad for his health.

“You keep staring at Zuko,” Suki replied, and he swung his head over to her.

“So?” he asked hesitantly. 

So what if he was staring at Zuko? Sokka loved seeing him happy like this, rare a sight as it was. He loved the way his pretty eyes glittered in the sunlight and how his hair was as glossy as a raven’s feathers. He loved watching the waves lap over all of that bare skin on display, making it glisten. He loved seeing Zuko reach out for Bumi with gentle hands, hands that were lethal yet held all the things he cared about like they were precious. He loved the way he spoke to Bumi as if the child could understand a thing he was saying, and responded to his incoherent babbles with the seriousness he would offer to any adult. He loved–

Oh. _Oh._

Sokka loved him. He loved Zuko. That was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it?

He gulped, and Suki must have seen the dawning realization on his face, because she reached out to touch his arm, murmuring a sympathetic, “Sokka…”

“How did I not figure this out sooner?” A hysterical laugh bubbled out of him, and he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe this.”

“You’re telling me that all this time, you didn’t know you had the hots for Zuko? Even _I_ could see it, and I’m blind!”

“Not helping, Toph,” Suki muttered, her concerned eyes remaining on Sokka.

He looked back out to the water, where Zuko was now alone with Bumi. Aang had joined Katara farther out, their laughter as they bent large waves at each other loud enough to be heard from his spot on the beach.

When had he fallen for Zuko, he wondered? It certainly couldn’t have been when they were teenagers. He didn’t get to know who Zuko really was until after the war ended, when there wasn’t a tyrannical asshole trying to take over the world that they had to spend every second of their lives worrying about. Maybe it was in the time they spent helping Zuko in the Earth Kingdom, during long nights camping out in the countryside as they travelled from town to town offering relief and help where they could. Maybe it was during his brief, infrequent visits to the South Pole, where he let Sokka and Katara show him how they lived.

Or maybe, it was simply all the soft smiles exchanged over the years, every brush of their hands, every second of lingering eye contact that had led up to _this_. This moment of undeniable clarity that yes, he loved Zuko, and he didn’t know how he couldn’t see it for what it was before. Though he’d always had trouble deciphering his feelings, this was taking it up a notch. A part of him was frustrated that the simple, innocent act of looking at Zuko for longer than was socially acceptable had been the catalyst to his realization. But it was so glaringly obvious now, and he didn’t know where that left him.

“What am I supposed to do?” he whispered, hands clenching in the blanket beneath him.

“Just talk to him,” Suki suggested, “he might feel the same way.”

“What if he doesn’t, though? I don’t even know if he likes guys!” he exclaimed.

“Suki’s right,” Toph began, “you just need to take that chance. Worse comes to worst, you get rejected and stay friends. It doesn’t have to be a big thing.”

“Easy for you to say,” he sighed, eyes boring into Zuko’s back.

As if sensing the weight of his gaze, Zuko straightened up and turned his head until he caught Sokka’s eye, a smile lighting up his face. It was like staring straight into the sun. 

Spirits, he was in trouble.

Suki shoved his shoulder. “He’s looking right at you! Go see him!”

“What? No! I can’t–”

“Yes, you can. Go.” Toph said, pushing at his other side. Again, she hit his bruise.

“Alright, alright! I’m going,” he yelped, getting hastily to his feet and stomping away from their giggling

The constant noise of the beach was drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears as he walked closer to Zuko. It was ridiculous, but he felt like he was approaching a battle that he desperately needed to win. He flexed his hands at his sides when they started to tremble.

 _It’s just Zuko_ , he reminded himself.

Zuko looked up at the sound of his feet wading into the water. Sokka smiled anxiously down at him. The water was the perfect temperature, and its coolness helped to sooth his nerves as he lowered himself to sit, stretching his legs out in front of him to match Zuko’s. Their bare shoulders and thighs brushed together, making his stomach jump. He splashed some water on his heated cheeks to compose himself.

“Were you getting too hot?” Zuko asked.

Sokka glanced over at him, realized how close his face was, and promptly decided it was safer to watch Katara and Aang in the distance instead. 

“Yeah, something like that,” he replied.

In between Zuko’s legs, Bumi brought a handful of silt to his mouth. Zuko rushed to stop him before he ate it, guiding his tiny hand back to the water to let the silt wash away.

“We don’t eat that,” he scolded quietly. Gently.

Bumi reached into the water to grab another handful of silt and offered it to Zuko, who thanked him and accepted it with a smile. The toddler continued to give Zuko pile after pile, talking nonsensically as he did so. Zuko hummed along like he was listening intently, like he had an idea of what Bumi was trying to say. 

Sokka’s pulse was rapid, with anxiousness and something else he couldn’t name simmering under his skin. He didn’t notice he was leaning into Zuko’s space until their sides were pressed flush together. Had he always done that? Had he always tried to be closer, unconsciously? Zuko turned to say something, an amused tilt to his mouth, but faltered when he saw Sokka’s face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Sokka froze. “Uh, like what?” he asked, hoping that his expression hadn’t given him away.

Zuko’s eyes lingered on his, searching. He was close enough for Sokka to see just how captivating they were. They were gorgeous like this, out in the sun, and once they had reminded him of fire. Now, all he could think was that they were the same color as the fresh honey he liked to put in his tea. It hit him, then, that he’d always thought Zuko’s eyes were beautiful, but had never attributed that acknowledgement as anything more than aesthetic attraction. Oh, how wrong he’d been. 

The moment was broken when Zuko looked away. “Nothing. Never mind.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and focused on Bumi, who had abandoned collecting silt in favor of using Zuko’s leg to help himself stand. 

“He really likes you, huh?”

“I guess. I don’t know why,” Zuko said, pressing a hand to Bumi’s lower back as he stood on wobbly legs.

Sokka scoffed. “C’mon, you’re amazing with him. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Zuko shot him a surprised look. “Oh, um...thank you.”

Bumi toddled forward, catching himself with both hands on Zuko’s chest as a small wave sent him off balance. He quickly became distracted by Zuko’s hair, grabbing a handful and tugging. Zuko winced, but made no move to stop him. Sokka’s heart clenched at the sight.

“On second thought, I think he only likes you for your hair,” he teased, desperately ignoring the mushy feelings bubbling in his chest.

“Yeah, that seems about right,” Zuko muttered, distracted as he tried to pry Bumi’s hands from his long hair.

Sokka’s hands were moving before he could stop them, along with his mouth.

“Can’t say I blame him. I like your hair,” he said quietly, twirling a strand of it around his fingers. It was as silky as it looked, sliding over his skin like water.

He heard Zuko’s breath stutter, and glanced away from the hair between his fingers to meet Zuko’s eyes. They were wide, and _confused_ , which really was not ideal, because Sokka knew better than anyone that confusion led to overthinking, and overthinking led to conclusions that were not far off from the truth. A truth that Sokka was definitely not ready for Zuko to know just yet. He cursed himself for listening to Suki and Toph when they told him to go sit with Zuko. This was the kind of situation that required a plan, because Sokka apparently couldn’t hold himself together without one.

He dropped Zuko’s hair, jerking his hand back like he’d been burned, and _hah_ , there was probably a joke in there somewhere–

Katara and Aang approached before he could rush out an apology; he hadn’t even noticed them coming, too blindsided by his internal panic. 

“Has Bumi been giving you any trouble?” Katara asked Zuko, wringing water out of her long hair.

Zuko cleared his throat. “He was perfect.”

“Good!” Katara beamed, scooping Bumi up from his spot at Zuko’s chest. She crooned a greeting at him, tickling his plump cheeks with her pointer finger and making him giggle. 

Katara looked away from Bumi, opening her mouth to say something else, but frowned instead. Her eyes travelled back and forth between them, agonizingly slow. He didn’t like that look.

“What?” he snapped.

Katara narrowed her eyes. “Why do you seem different?”

Sokka sputtered. “Me? Different? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He felt Zuko shift uneasily next to him, and suddenly he was aware of how close they really were now that Katara and Aang were right there to see. Maybe that was why she’d been looking at him so oddly. Subtly, he eased himself away from Zuko, but Katara tracked the movement with her eyes. She was, after all, just as experienced a hunter as he was.

“Yeah…” Aang chimed in, squinting down at him, “you _do_ seem different.”

“Nothing is different! I’ve been totally normal! Right, Zuko?” 

He regretted the words the instant they left his mouth, because there was no way Zuko _hadn’t_ noticed how weird he was acting. Inwardly, he groaned, but plastered on a fake smile and turned to Zuko nonetheless.

Zuko glanced between him and Katara, lips pursed. “Yeah. Normal,” he deadpanned, utterly unconvincing. 

Sokka resisted the urge to scowl and looked back at Katara, his smile more strained than it had been before. He racked his brain for something, _anything_ , that would allow him to abandon ship. 

“You know what? I think all this sun is actually making me kinda sick. I’m gonna go lay down in the house for a while, I’ll see you guys at dinner. Bye!” he rambled, the water sloshing noisily as he stood up and made his hasty retreat. The sand burned his feet as he took quick strides to the path leading up to the house. On his way there, he passed Suki and Toph, who asked where he was going only for him to promptly ignore them. He could feel all of their bewildered looks on his back, but paid them no mind.

He took a cool bath when he got back to the house, pulled the curtains shut in his room to block out the sunlight, and collapsed face-first into bed with a loud groan. It was going to be a long, long week.

* * *

At some point during his impromptu moping session, he must have drifted off. He woke up to the bed jostling slightly as Katara took a seat on the edge. The room was dark, but the orange glow of the sunset had still managed to worm its way through the gaps in the curtains. It was just enough to illuminate his sister’s face.

“Dinner time?” he asked, squinting at her tiredly.

“It was supposed to be ready a while ago, but Zuko let Aang help cook and it didn’t end well,” she replied, examining her nails. 

He snorted. Somehow, that wasn’t at all surprising. It wasn’t the first time that had happened, nor would it be the last. They all knew Zuko was a sucker for Aang’s puppy eyes.

He sat up against the headboard, blinking slowly. The nap had left him groggy and heavy-limbed, a feeling that he didn’t particularly enjoy. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but Bumi had kept him up for a considerable chunk of the previous night.

Katara looked tired, too. But Sokka was used to it; she’d had perpetual shadows under her eyes since Bumi was born. There was something else, though, in the slight downturn of her mouth and the way she wouldn’t look at him that was caused by more than just a lack of sleep.

“What’s the matter?” he said quietly, nudging her lower back with his foot.

She heaved a deep sigh and met his eyes. “I know you were lying earlier.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Okay, _Toph_. Care to elaborate?”

“I can tell something has changed with you.”

He gulped and averted his gaze. “Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_ ,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I know I’ve said this to you a thousand times, but Sokka, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yes, I know! It’s just–” He blew out a frustrated breath and leaned back against the headboard, his skull hitting it with a loud thunk.

“It’s just what?” she asked.

He glanced at her hesitantly. “It’s big, Katara.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Big how?”

“Um. Life-altering?”

She stared, long enough for him to start squirming. He felt his cheeks grow heated.

“Wait–” she gasped, a knowing smirk spreading across her face. “I think I figured it out!” 

“No way,” he scoffed, “I barely said anything–”

“It’s Zuko, isn’t it?”

He froze.

The smirk on her face widened. His silence was all the confirmation she needed.

Sokka slumped. “Did all of you know except for me?”

“Everyone but you and Zuko,” she laughed.

He scowled. “At least I have that going for me.”

“Are you not going to tell him?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I haven’t really thought that far ahead. I _just_ realized how I feel about him.”

“Well,” she said, standing up from the bed and smoothing out her skirt, “for what it’s worth, I think you should tell him.”

“Why? Do you know something?” he asked, perking up as she walked to the door. Zuko and Katara _were_ close; it wouldn’t be at all shocking to learn he divulged those kinds of secrets to her.

She turned around in the doorway to shoot him an unimpressed look. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You’re a big boy, Sokka. You can figure this out on your own.”

“Fuck you,” he sighed, listening to her laughter fade as she returned to their friends downstairs. 

He stared at the ceiling and mulled over his options. The one thing he knew for sure about himself was that he was terrible at hiding things from others, especially his friends and family. That had become apparent earlier, when he’d done a remarkable job of acting like a lovesick idiot in front of Zuko. As much as he hated to admit it, Zuko would find out about his feelings eventually, whether or not Sokka wanted him to know of their existence. The logical explanation would be to tell Zuko himself, on his own terms.

But when and how he should do it was the big question.

Sokka considered waiting to tell him until the next time they saw each other in person, so as to not ruin their vacation if things went badly. Though the more he thought about it, the worse the idea seemed. Zuko was a hard person to reach, what with all the traveling he did. He never stopped moving. Sokka imagined long, lonely months in the South Pole, where his feelings could fester and grow to an unbearable longing with nothing to remedy it. He imagined himself spending every waking moment thinking about Zuko–where he was, whether or not he was okay, wondering if he missed Sokka just as much as Sokka missed him. All things that he did even before he realized how he felt, but not with the added weight of regret and could-have-beens clouding his mind. It was an unpleasant line of thinking, so he discarded the idea quickly. Which really left him with one more choice.

He had to tell Zuko before they parted ways again. 

The thought made his hands clammy and his pulse race. Despite his nerves, telling Zuko sooner was better than the alternative of waiting for an unnamed amount of time. If Zuko didn’t return his feelings, then he would be able to go home and lick his wounds in peace until the next time they saw each other. He would have closure, arguably one of the most important parts of healing from anything so emotionally devastating.

For the time being, he didn’t let his thoughts wander to what would happen if Zuko _did_ feel the same way. Because if the opposite was true, then it would hurt so much worse if he’d already indulged himself thinking about what their lives could be like together.

* * *

The week passed sluggishly, a dream-like hush falling over the spacious house that only the hottest weather could bring. It didn’t help that being in such close quarters with Zuko was driving Sokka mad.

Now that he’d recognized his feelings for what they were, he couldn’t help but be hyper aware of Zuko’s every move, of every touch and look shared between them. It was nearly unbearable. Even the simplest of things–the brush of their fingers when handed a cup of tea, the little smiles that seemed to hold more weight now, the way Zuko couldn’t stop his laughter at Sokka’s lame jokes, raspy and lighthearted–made him feel scraped raw. Exposed. More than once, he found himself with those three precious words ready on the tip of his tongue, choking him. 

Sokka never said them, though. Maybe Zuko saw it in his eyes, if the puzzled glances he was constantly sending his way were any indication. When it all became too much, which admittedly happened more often than not, he locked himself in his room or took long walks down the coast to find relief from the oppressive _want_ that pervaded his entire being. Still, Zuko was at the forefront of Sokka’s mind, even when he escaped his presence.

To avoid pondering the future, he obsessed over the past. Overanalyzing everything was something of a talent for him, and it came as no surprise when he obsessively wondered if Zuko had meant anything more by _this_ or _that_. Or if Sokka had unknowingly indicated over the years that his love for Zuko was anything more than platonic. He rooted through every memory, any fleeting moment that happened to grab his attention. 

One in particular came to mind, when Zuko was visiting the South Pole a few years ago during the season of constant darkness. The conditions weren’t ideal for a firebender, but Zuko held strong for as long as he could. It was only a few short days, however, until the lack of sunlight caught up to him. He’d shiver and stumble through chores, fall asleep in his food at meal times, and could be found dozing in odd spots around Hakoda’s home, much to everyone’s amusement. Eventually, he even fell asleep in Sokka’s bed by accident, and Sokka, none the wiser, had let him. Had slept next to him and enjoyed the heat he gave off. Had woken up the next day with his face buried in Zuko’s chest, wrapped in warmth and safety. Still, he’d thought nothing of it.

It was so obvious, now.

When pondering the past became intolerable, he occupied his time with Bumi. Bumi was safe, as long as Zuko wasn’t around. Baby fever was a different kind of longing, one much easier to cope with when the object of his affections was out of sight.

All in all, it wasn’t turning out to be a particularly relaxing vacation. It wasn’t just him, either. Every night, Bumi had woken their half of the house up to inconsolable crying. Usually, Katara and Aang could get it under control before long. But on their fifth night on Ember Island, he wouldn’t let up.

Sokka sighed and rolled out of bed to check on them. Suki and Toph were already in the doorway, watching Aang hold Bumi still while Katara checked his temperature with a glowing orb of water. The toddler cried through it all the while.

He squeezed his way into the room to get closer as Katara huffed a frustrated sigh and bent the water back into a cup on their nightstand.

“Is he sick?” he asked, brushing his own hand over Bumi’s head. It felt normal.

“No. I don’t know what’s wrong,” Katara mumbled, exchanging a worried look with Aang. It was evident how tired they were, in the slump of their shoulders and the bags under their eyes. Sokka winced sympathetically at the sight of them, and an especially loud wail from Bumi had him making up his mind quickly about what to do.

“Maybe he just needs to take a little walk,” Sokka said, plucking Bumi from Aang’s hands.

Aang frowned, blinking slowly. “Sokka...you don’t have to,” he said, voice barely audible over loud sobs.

Katara looked like she was about to protest, but Sokka cut her off. “No, I insist. You guys look like shit.”

Her mouth snapped shut and she glared at him.

“Besides, I don’t need that much sleep. Right, kiddo? You and me make a good pair,” he murmured into Bumi’s hair, turning to the door and slipping back out of the room. He jerked his chin at Suki. “Can you make sure those idiots actually go to bed?"

“Yeah. We’ll even tuck them in, just to be sure,” she teased. He rolled his eyes and retreated down the hall. Even through all the noise as he left, he heard Toph grumble something to Suki about needing earplugs, and he shook his head in amusement.

First, he went outside and tried walking a few loops around the house. When that didn’t work, he wandered down to the beach, which still wasn’t enough to quell the crying toddler. Before long, his shirt was growing wet with tears and snot. Sokka held Bumi away from himself, frowning at the distress on that young face. 

“I’m sorry, buddy. I don’t know what you need,” Sokka murmured, hugging Bumi closer once again. The sound of his voice only seemed to agitate Bumi more.

He made his way back to the house and found himself in the kitchen, pacing back and forth in the low light of an oil lamp. He hummed, and bounced, even tried tickling (which was _not_ received well), and still Bumi weeped. Just as he was accepting a long night of waiting for the kid to tire himself out, Zuko appeared in the kitchen entrance, rubbing his eyes. Sokka’s eyes roamed over the adorable, sleep-ruffled state of him before he caught himself. 

“Hey, sorry, did we wake you? He won’t stop crying and I wanted to let Katara and Aang get some sleep.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” Zuko rasped, peering over at Bumi. “What’s wrong?”

Sokka ceased his pacing and leaned against the counter with a shrug. “I don’t know. Kat said he isn’t sick, and nothing I’m doing is working…” He trailed off and looked away from Zuko when guilt started to well in his chest. Of course, he knew it wasn’t his fault that his nephew was upset, but he felt like he’d failed when nearly an hour after taking him, Bumi was still crying.

Zuko tilted his head, thinking. “Can I try something?”

Sokka nodded, surprised when Zuko moved close enough to press into his side. The counter dug into his lower back as he flattened himself against it, subtly trying to put more space between them before he did something stupid. 

Zuko reached out to place his hand on Bumi’s back, rubbing in gentle circles. Bumi sucked in a sharp breath, choking on a sob, and Sokka shot Zuko a quizzical look over the toddler’s head.

“I’m heating up my hand,” Zuko explained, voice hushed, “to help him relax.”

Miraculously, after a few moments of soothing warmth, Bumi’s cries quieted to soft hiccups. Sokka craned his neck at an awkward angle to get a look at his face, relieved to see that his wide, gray eyes were already beginning to droop with exhaustion. He nuzzled into Sokka’s chest, snuffling quietly. Sokka held him a little tighter.

Suddenly, Bumi let out a burp, loud in the otherwise silent kitchen, making Zuko’s hand freeze on his back. Sokka’s eyes widened and met Zuko’s startled ones. It took everything he had not to burst out laughing.

“That’s all it was, huh? An upset tummy?” he whispered, voice strained as he held back giggles.

Zuko tipped forward to muffle a snort into Sokka’s shoulder. It was there he stayed, flush against Sokka even after he continued with rubbing Bumi’s back. Eventually, Bumi’s breaths evened out, and he was a dead weight in Sokka’s arms as he finally succumbed to sleep. Sokka relaxed as much as he could with a kid clinging to him and his best friend who he was very much in love with plastered to his side.

Though Bumi had fallen asleep, Zuko didn’t let up with the back rub. The motions seemed to be done absently, like he was lulled into the peaceful quiet that had fallen over the kitchen. Sokka felt it too, overcome with the urge to wrap his free arm around Zuko and stay like that.

 _He’s right there. Why not?_

Before he could talk himself out of it, Sokka listened to the voice in his head. He wiggled his arm out from between them to wind it around Zuko’s waist, hauling him that little bit closer. Zuko, cheek pillowed on Sokka’s shoulder, melted into it. His hand drifted from Bumi’s back to cradle Sokka’s elbow, warm fingers skidding over his skin. It was such a simple touch, yet it made Sokka clench his jaw and close his eyes against the onslaught of _more, more, more_. But that wasn’t something he could ask for. Not yet, at least, although that was a dangerous thought to have.

He sighed and tilted his head to rest against Zuko’s, listening to Bumi’s slow, deep breathing. Zuko’s thumb ran back and forth on his arm, and it was enough to clear his mind of all but one thing–that he never wanted this moment to end. It was a taste of the future that he’d been refusing to let himself wonder about all week. A future where he had a child held in one arm, and Zuko in the other. A future where Zuko loved him back.

Sokka pressed his mouth to Zuko’s forehead, almost a kiss but not quite. He loved him, so much.

“We should go back to bed,” he murmured, lips moving against Zuko’s skin.

Slowly, Zuko withdrew from the half-hug he’d been wrapped up in, not meeting Sokka’s eyes. His cheeks were rosy, and he swayed slightly without Sokka’s support. 

“Do you want help with him?” Zuko whispered.

“No, I’ll be okay from here. You go on.”

He ushered Zuko out of the kitchen with a hand to his lower back. They said their goodnights, reluctant, and parted ways much like they had that first night on Ember Island. But everything seemed different now, a tension between them that hadn’t been there at the beginning of the week. Sokka hoped he wasn’t imagining it.

 _Tomorrow_ , he thought as he lay in bed, still unable to sleep after everything.

He would tell Zuko tomorrow.

* * *

Sokka spent the entirety of the next day trying to distract himself. He sparred with Suki and Toph in the morning, like usual, and went for a long swim in the afternoon that brought him away from shore as far as he dared to go. There, he floated mindlessly on his back, baking in the sun and letting the water muffle his hearing. His mind was comfortably, terrifyingly blank. 

At dinner time, he picked quietly at his meal and made silly faces at Bumi. Once, he caught Zuko smiling over at them, and had to turn away to hide the dark flush in his cheeks. 

Long after the sun had set and he’d done everything he could do to prepare, he stood in the middle of his room, rocking back and forth on his heels, trying to muster the courage to go and talk to Zuko. A mirror hung on the wall across from his bed. He spared a glance at his reflection, noting with a sigh that he looked like he always did, just significantly more nervous. At least he was clean, smelling of the sweet soaps that he had found in Zuko’s bathroom.

“What do you think, Momo? Do I look okay?” he asked the lemur, who was curled up in a tight ball on his pillow.

One of Momo’s floppy ears twitched, and that was all the response he received.

Sokka rolled his eyes and finally left the room, walking to the other side of the house until he was in front of Zuko’s door. It was cracked open enough for Sokka to see the lamp light flickering in the room. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and rapped his knuckles softly against the wood. 

“What?” Zuko said, voice quiet.

Sokka poked his head in the room. “It’s me. Do you mind if I come in?”

Zuko looked up from the book he was reading, glasses perched on his nose. “No, go ahead.”

Sokka stepped inside and shut the door softly behind him, hoping Zuko wouldn’t notice. But he had already gone back to his book, paying no mind to the anxious wreck of a person now standing awkwardly in the room. Sokka took the opportunity to let his eyes roam over the length of his body, stretched out on the bed with his long legs crossed at the ankles. He was only wearing loose pants and a silky, red robe lined with gold trim. It was open in the front, leaving his toned stomach on display much to Sokka’s simultaneous dismay and delight. His black hair was damp from a bath and hung loose over one shoulder. 

Sokka cautiously approached the bed and sat up against the headboard, legs splayed out in front of him. His back was ramrod straight, shoulders bunched up with tension, and he knew he needed to relax before Zuko saw how stiff he was. He forced himself to lean back against the pillows and just breathe, slowly, in the hopes that it would calm him down somewhat. 

But it only made him inhale the tangy scent of Zuko’s hair, something citrusy and sweet that was intoxicating to his senses. 

Not for the first time that night, he wondered how in La’s name he was supposed to get through this conversation. 

_There’s only one way to find out_ , he thought reluctantly.

“Hey, um, I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said, proud that his voice only shook a little bit.

Zuko glanced at him, then back at his book. “Yeah, one second, let me just finish this part…” he trailed off, eating up the words on the page quickly.

Sokka narrowed his eyes. Here he was with his heart on his sleeve, and Zuko was absorbed in a _book_. That just wouldn’t do.

Quickly, he reached over and snatched the book out of Zuko’s hands. Zuko made an affronted noise, scrambling to grab it, but Sokka jerked it just out of reach. 

“What _are_ you reading, anyways,” he hummed, paying no mind to Zuko’s protests. He flipped the book over to see the cover; it was a copy of an old Earth Kingdom love story, battered and water-stained but still intact. Thumbing it open to a random page, he began reading only to find the first sentence he laid his eyes on to be extremely raunchy. “Oh, _Zuko_! This is–”

He was interrupted by Zuko lunging across the bed, but Sokka was faster, holding the book up high enough that Zuko couldn’t get it.

“Sokka! Give it back!” Zuko growled, shuffling closer on his knees. 

Sokka shot him a shit-eating grin, dangling the book in front of his face and pulling it back at the last moment before Zuko’s hand could close around it.

His glee was short-lived when suddenly, Zuko threw a leg over his torso, essentially straddling him as he made another grab for the book. In his shock, Sokka let go, unsure where to place his now empty hands.

Zuko smirked triumphantly, sitting back on Sokka’s lap. Sokka saw the moment he realized the position he was in, the moment his face went blank and his cheeks turned scarlet. 

“Shit, sorry, I can–” Zuko began, moving to lift himself off of Sokka.

Sokka’s hands flew to his knees to stop him. He stilled at the touch, hesitantly meeting Sokka’s eyes.

“Wait, just…” He gulped, at a loss for words as Zuko relentlessly stared through him. His hands flexed uselessly on Zuko’s knees

Slowly, Zuko lowered himself back down to sit. He leaned forward to set his book on the nightstand, then his glasses. He was so close, and Sokka could smell his hair again, and he felt dizzy, and _spirits_ , he had Zuko in his _lap_.

Zuko turned to face him fully again, and so timidly placed his hands on Sokka’s chest that he barely felt the touch. He was sure Zuko could feel how his heart was pounding away, so frantic that his chest was jumping up and down under his shirt.

“You wanted to talk about something?” Zuko asked, voice low. Sokka blinked, startled that Zuko was initiating this conversation they so desperately needed to have, and still he found himself unable to speak. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, only a shuddering breath that betrayed how nervous he was. He settled for a slow nod.

Zuko slid his palms up to rest on Sokka’s shoulders. “Well,” he said, “I have some questions that I’d like you to answer first.”

“Okay,” Sokka whispered, wide-eyed.

“I noticed that you’ve been...staring at me, a lot. At first, I couldn’t figure out why. But then I realized you almost always did it when I was with Bumi, and you were looking at me the exact same way I caught you looking at Suki when you first got here.

“So tell me,” Zuko continued, “were you looking at me like that because of the baby fever, or because of something else?”

“Can’t it be both?” Sokka asked weakly, searching Zuko’s face for something, anything, that told him Zuko was asking what he thought he was asking.

“I suppose it can,” Zuko replied, smiling a little. “I’m just not sure what ‘both’ means.”

This was it. The perfect moment for him to say exactly what he needed to. To get those three little words out in the open.

Instead, he was getting lost in Zuko’s eyes, in the heat radiating off of him, in the slender fingers that were curling into the muscles of his shoulders. He realized that he had a death grip on the fabric of Zuko’s pants, and loosened his hold just so he could slide his hands up Zuko’s thighs, over his bare hips, to rest lightly on his waist. Zuko’s eyelashes fluttered slightly at the touch, and he tilted forward into Sokka’s space. The oil lamp on the nightstand snuffed into nothing, leaving the room mostly dark.

A silent understanding seemed to pass between them, one that had them inching closer and closer until Sokka could feel Zuko’s breath ghosting over his lips. He hovered there, just breathing, and Sokka was trembling beneath him, overcome with such a strong need to feel those lips on his that he was frozen in place, waiting for the next move.

Moonlight shone through the window, casting their shadows over the bed. Zuko was glowing in it, ethereal, so beautiful that it almost seemed as though he wasn’t really there. Sokka’s hands tightened on Zuko’s waist, holding him in place so he wouldn’t disappear. A tiny sound, something like a whimper, left his mouth unbidden. 

Zuko nosed forward, torturously slow, until their lips brushed the slightest bit. Sokka gasped, leaned into it for more, but then Zuko wasn’t there. The loss of him was devastating, until Sokka felt a kiss being pressed to the junction of shoulder and neck, moving up, up, up. One beneath his ear, on his earlobe, then the bolt of his jaw. Zuko’s hands followed his mouth until both were cupping each side of his face, gentle as ever. 

A kiss to his cheek, the tip of his nose, a longer one to his forehead. One brushed over each eyelid, and yes, it was a good thing his eyes were closed, because he felt them growing wet with how _worshipful_ Zuko’s touches were. Never in his life had he felt so loved as he did in that moment. No words could convey the reverence with which each kiss was placed upon his skin, and he preferred it that way. Both of them communicated best with touch, through eye contact, by simply existing in each other’s presence. 

That was how it all began, wasn’t it? 

All week, he’d been agonizing over what he should _say_ , but he never considered that he didn’t need to say anything at all. It was always there.

Zuko’s hands tilted his face up, and he almost brought their lips together but stopped just short _again_. Sokka couldn’t take it.

“Zuko,” he pleaded, uncaring of how breathy he sounded. He was begging, after all.

“What?” Zuko whispered, and Sokka could hear the smile in his voice, could barely feel it against his lips, because he was a fucking _tease_ –

Any complaints he had ceased when their lips finally met, firmly this time. Zuko’s were warm and soft against his own. He wrapped his arms around Zuko’s waist, hauling him closer and deepening the kiss in turn. It started out slow, their lips dragging against each other in a way that stirred something low in his stomach, but it quickly turned frantic. 

Zuko’s hands held his face almost desperately, and it was so easy for Sokka to open up for him, to let their tongues slide together, hot and wet. It felt so good that he couldn’t stop the moan that escaped him if he tried, which made Zuko kiss him even harder. He tugged Zuko’s bottom lip between his teeth, sucking on it, and Zuko gasped into his mouth. Oh, he wanted to hear it again; he wanted to find everything that made Zuko writhe, everything that made him hold Sokka tighter and closer like he was going to crawl into his skin and stay there forever. A selfish part of him thought that forever didn’t seem like enough time for all the things he wanted. It wasn’t enough–nothing could be enough unless Zuko was right there for him to have and to hold.

But he was only human, mortal, and he needed to breathe because Zuko had stolen all the air from his lungs. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, his heart racing in his chest. Zuko must have felt it where his fingers rested over his pulse, still cradling his head to keep him close. He whined when Sokka tried to pull away, using his hands to bring Sokka’s face back to his and plant a few more short, sweet kisses to his lips. Sokka smiled into them. Zuko kissed his smile again and again until they were both laughing softly, noses bumping together. He pressed his lips to the corner of Zuko’s mouth, then on his cheek beneath the edge of his scar. That was where he stayed, eyes closed as he caught his breath.

Zuko’s thumbs ran back and forth over his cheekbones soothingly. He was still giddy, riding the high of finally knowing that Zuko loved him too. It was never explicitly stated, but Sokka knew it was true in the way Zuko kissed him and how he was holding him now, like he was something to be treasured. He leaned back, just enough to open his eyes and drink in the sight of Zuko with kiss-swollen lips, rosy cheeks, and a fondness on his face as he gazed right back that made Sokka melt on the inside.

“Come back to the South Pole with me,” he whispered, running his hands up Zuko’s back beneath the robe. Zuko shivered and arched into the touch, but his lips had tilted down in a frown.

“Sokka...I want to, but I have a job to do. My Uncle–”

“–will be fine.” Sokka cut in. “You’re barely in the Fire Nation, anyways.”

It was true; Zuko hated the palace. That was one of the reasons why he’d jumped to the task of traveling to each Fire Nation colony in the Earth Kingdom. It was a difficult job, made worse by his terrible people skills that didn’t do him any favors when met with open hostility from most places he visited. But he was making a difference and that was all that mattered. Everything he did helped bring direct relief to people who needed it after a century of persecution. It was a system that worked, for him because he didn’t have to deal with the ghosts of his past in Caldera, and for Iroh who used Zuko’s insight as the Fire Nation moved forward with reparation plans. 

“Exactly!” Zuko argued, a furrow appearing between his brow. “He needs me in the Earth Kingdom.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“What? Sokka, how else–”

“You can’t single handedly fix the Earth Kingdom.”

Zuko clamped his mouth shut, eyes hard. “I can try.”

Sokka shook his head and withdrew his hands from underneath Zuko’s robe to grasp his wrists, still framing his face. “You’ve done enough. The war has been over for twelve years and you’ve been going nonstop since then. What are you running from?”

Zuko clenched his jaw and turned his head away. He didn’t answer. But the guilt on his face was there, clear as day, just as it had been since the day he joined their team.

“I know you feel like it’s your responsibility to make everything right again,” he said softly, “but it’s not. It’s not. You can’t spend your whole life trying to do this- this impossible task. You’re allowed to be happy.”

Zuko looked back at him, eyes glistening. “What am I supposed to do, then?”

Sokka squeezed his wrists. “Do what makes you happy.”

The hands on his cheeks adjusted their grip. Zuko brushed a palm over his forehead, trailing it over the top of his head and down to the back of his neck. He pulled Sokka closer, and kissed him again. Sokka made a surprised sound, muffled against Zuko’s lips.

“I’ll come live in the South Pole with you,” Zuko murmured against his mouth, pulling back a little. 

“Really?” Sokka breathed.

“Yes. But I can’t come right away. I need to tell my Uncle, and help him make plans for when I’m gone.”

“That’s...okay, yeah. Okay,” he stammered. He leaned up for another quick peck, then asked, “What do you think he’ll do instead?”

Zuko sat back and thought for a moment. “Well, most of the colonies have established governments now, so maybe they could act as ambassadors? We could set up meetings throughout the year for them to check in with the Fire Lord.”

Sokka nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. That way everyone could represent themselves, be more independent.” He smirked and poked Zuko in the chest. “Hey, you’re not half bad at politics, huh?”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “I’ve learned a lot over the years. About what does and doesn’t work.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t let all that talent go to waste in the Southern Water Tribe. I think my dad would love to hear about everything you’ve seen and done. You could be, I don’t know, a Fire Nation ambassador!”

Zuko shot him a crooked smile. “Are you really sure about this?”

Sokka wrapped his arms around Zuko’s neck and pulled him close. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

“How long have you known?” Zuko asked, hugging him back.

Sokka winced. “Like, five days?”

Zuko jerked away to give him an incredulous look. “Five days?”

“Is that so bad? How long have you known?”

Zuko scoffed, his cheeks suddenly growing red. “It doesn’t matter.”

“No, no. Now you have to tell me if that was your reaction.” Zuko shook his head vehemently, so Sokka nuzzled up under his jaw, peppering light kisses there and muttering, “C’mon, please? For me?”

“You’re _terrible_ ,” Zuko groaned, pushing his face away from his neck. Sokka laughed playfully, and went in for more, but Zuko stopped him. “Fine. Try five years.”

He let out a low whistle, face softening. “Zuko…”

“I know, it’s embarrassing,” he sighed, avoiding Sokka’s gaze.

“It’s not embarrassing,” Sokka said. “I may have only realized five days ago, but I’ve been in love with you for a lot longer than that.”

That got Zuko’s attention. He looked up, startled, because it was the first time either of them had actually said the words. Sokka sheepishly wondered if they were moving too fast, but everything felt so right that he didn’t have it in him to harbor any real concern.

Zuko kissed him instead of saying anything back, and Sokka was very okay with that.

When they broke apart again, he laughed. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

“Why are you laughing?” Zuko asked, amused.

Sokka shrugged. “I’m just happy. Really, really happy."

“So am I,” Zuko said, and Sokka knew it was true because he could see that Zuko’s eyes were twinkling with joy in the moonlight.

“We’ll have our own little igloo,” he whispered, playing with a strand of Zuko’s hair, “and you’ll get to see Katara and Aang and Bumi all the time. Maybe we could even have our own–”

His eyes widened and he snapped his mouth shut. Typical Sokka, getting so ahead of himself in his excitement that he was trying to talk about kids already.

“Our own what?” Zuko asked, because of course he had to ask.

“Nothing!” Sokka said quickly.

“You’re an awful liar. Just tell me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Obviously it’s not nothing.”

Sokka groaned. “I don’t want to scare you away. I’ll tell you eventually, how about that?”

Zuko looked like he was struggling not to laugh. “You were gonna say that we could have our own kids, weren’t you?”

Not for the first time that week, he wished his family couldn’t read him like an open book.

“Okay, _yes_ ,” he admitted, hiding his face in Zuko’s neck. “We can pretend I didn’t say it, I don’t expect you to–”

“Sokka, it’s okay. I want that too.”

“You do?” he asked, confused. “I thought you said that you didn’t think you would ever have kids?”

“I did say that, because I never considered it as a possibility for me. I thought I would spend the rest of my life in the Earth Kingdom with nowhere to settle.”

“Then what changed?”

“I have you,” Zuko whispered. He pressed a kiss to Sokka’s temple. “I can’t see myself having children with anyone else. Or loving anyone else.”

“Oh.” Sokka choked out. He fisted his hands in Zuko’s robe, face still tucked into the hollow of his neck. His eyes started watering so fast that he was helpless to stop the tears that fell as he blinked. One drop, then a second, onto Zuko’s collarbone.

“Are you crying?” Zuko asked, and he sounded so worried, so mortified, that it made Sokka laugh wetly into his neck.

“They’re happy tears, I promise.”

Zuko relaxed a little at those words, then tensed right up again. “Please don’t cry. You’re going to make _me_ cry,” he said, voice already a little shaky.

He laughed again, and pulled away to wipe his face and take a deep breath. “Sorry. No more crying, got it.”

“No more crying,” Zuko agreed, followed by a loud yawn.

“Tired?” 

“Yeah,” Zuko hummed, leaning all of his weight forward until he was squishing Sokka into the pillows.

Sokka gently pushed Zuko off of him. He grumbled, shucking his robe and stretching out on the other side of the bed. Sokka didn’t have a chance to do the same, as he was tugged down a moment later. He huffed and squirmed until he was comfortable, their legs tangled together and his head nestled on Zuko’s chest. Zuko held him close, both arms thrown over his shoulders.

“Hey, Zuko?”

“Hm?”

“Ember Island really does–”

“If you say ‘reveal the true you,’ I’m going to punch you.”

Sokka grinned. He kissed Zuko’s skin, right over his heart.

“Goodnight,” he whispered. 

Zuko clutched him tighter. “G’night,” he slurred.

They fell asleep just like that, wrapped in warmth, safety, and love.

* * *

Zuko woke up early the next morning, dragging Sokka out of bed to sit with him in the kitchen while he made breakfast, much to his annoyance. Any lingering grumpiness was short-lived, however, as Zuko prepared his tea just the way he liked it and dropped it in front of him with a kiss to the top of his head before he got started on the food. Sokka sat at the dining room table with his chin in his hands, content to watch Zuko move about the kitchen as he cooked enough for everyone.

Slowly, the rest of their housemates trickled into the kitchen. Suki entered first, seeming surprised that he was awake, followed by Aang and Bumi, then Katara, and lastly, Toph. Aang sat Bumi in his baby chair at the head of the table next to Sokka, and he abandoned staring at Zuko to talk to his nephew. Bumi was always sweet in the mornings, his usually loud voice quiet and a constant, shy smile on his face. Sokka loved it.

Zuko sat next to Sokka when he was done cooking and everyone had been served a plate. It was a normal breakfast, no different than the others they’d had throughout the week. Except for the fact that Zuko and Sokka had drifted closer throughout the meal, thighs pressed together and fingers tangled under the table where no one could see. When he was finished eating, he shuffled down in his seat and rested his head on Zuko’s shoulder, sighing happily. Which earned them a few looks from everyone else.

“Is anyone else seeing what I’m seeing?” Toph asked, bluntly interrupting the idle chatter that had fallen over the table.

Sokka glanced at the floor. He had never really paid attention to how it looked, but it was a beautiful mosaic of stone. Stone that served as Toph’s eyes. He wasn’t worried, though. It was funny watching them all squirm as they looked uneasily at the lack of space between him and Zuko, unsure if they should ask the question he knew they were dying to ask.

“You mean the fact that they’re holding hands under the table?” Suki said.

“I have no idea what you guys are talking about,” Sokka said, and Zuko snorted a laugh into his tea. He turned to smother an obnoxious grin into Zuko’s shoulder.

Katara stared at them in disbelief. Aang, on the other hand, made a show of dropping his chopsticks with an overly exaggerated _oops_ , before he disappeared under the table to retrieve them. He pulled himself back into his seat a moment later, a wide smile on his face. 

“They _are_ holding hands,” he whispered to Katara, loud enough for the entire table to hear. 

He never was one for subtlety.

“Ah. Busted,” Sokka said, squeezing Zuko’s fingers and raising their joined hands for everyone to see.

The table erupted in chaos. Yelling, cheering, and laughter filled the room. He shared a bewildered look with Zuko, but was quickly distracted by the sound of Bumi crying over all the noise. 

Everyone stopped shouting when they realized it had set Bumi off. Sokka scooped him up quickly, rubbing his back until he calmed down. 

“Nice one,” he said, glaring at each person at the table. Except for Zuko, who was doing his best to make Bumi laugh.

“What did you expect? We thought you guys were never gonna pull your heads out of your asses!” Suki exclaimed.

“Language,” Katara muttered at the same time as Toph said, “Actually, you thought that, not me. You owe me twenty yuans, Suki.”

Suki rolled her eyes while Sokka gaped at them. “You made bets?”

“Yup,” Katara laughed, looking smug. “Time to pay up, Aang.”

Aang pouted. “My own wife,” he sighed dramatically.

“My own _sister_! You guys are horrible.”

“Hey, it was either making bets or locking you guys in a closet until you figured your shit out,” Toph chuckled.

“Toph,” Katara said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Please don’t swear in front of Bumi.”

“Sorry, Sweetness,” Toph replied, not looking at all sorry.

“Were we really that bad?” Zuko asked hesitantly.

“ _Yes_ ,” they all chorused.

“Okay, okay. We get it,” Sokka grumbled, turning Bumi in his arms so he was facing the rest of the table.

“We’re really happy for you two,” Aang said, smiling sincerely. Everyone murmured in agreement.

“Thanks, guys,” Sokka said. He leaned into Zuko’s side, relieved that everything was out in the open and that the conversation was shifting away from them. Zuko kissed his cheek, and Sokka turned to plant one on his mouth instead. They kept kissing, even through all of the obnoxious, fake-gagging noises from their friends in the background.

He was overwhelmed with the feeling that everything had fallen into place. Even the next morning, when it was time for them to go their separate ways, he was at peace. Of course, he didn’t _want_ to be away from Zuko while he sorted things out with his uncle. But it was necessary, and Zuko would be by his side again soon enough. Hopefully, to stay.

After their bags were loaded onto Appa, they all said their goodbyes to Zuko. Katara hugged him extra tight, whispered something in his ear that had him smiling as she walked away. Bumi cried when Zuko handed him off to Aang, unhappy to leave the arms of his favorite firebender. Aang gave him a quick hug, then Toph, then Suki, until finally, it was his turn.

He pulled Zuko to his chest and held him tight. Zuko returned the hug just as fiercely. Sokka tried to memorize the weight of him, solid in his arms, how he smelled, how warm he was. He took it all in while he still could.

After a long moment, Zuko backed off and took both of Sokka’s hands in his. He looked up at him, eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. 

“I’ll miss you,” he said.

Sokka smiled back, though it was a little wobbly. “I’ll miss you too,” he murmured, gently swinging their hands back and forth.

“I’ll be as quick as I can, okay?”

“Okay.”

Zuko let go of his hands to hold his face while he kissed him, just like he had the first time. It was gentle, full of love. A love that he didn’t want to be without for the rest of his life.

If he didn’t leave then, he would stay there all day kissing Zuko, so he forced himself to stop. He swayed forward to press his mouth to Zuko’s forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered, so quiet it was almost lost to the breeze.

Zuko hugged him again. “I love you too. So much,” he breathed.

Sokka gave him one last peck on the lips, then took a couple steps backwards. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Zuko said. “Now go.”

Sokka raised his hands in mock surrender and climbed into Appa’s saddle, staring mournfully down at Zuko as they all waved one last goodbye. Then, with a slap of Appa’s tail, they were rising steadily into the air. His eyes stayed trained on Zuko, growing tinier and tinier in the distance until a cloud shrouded his vision and he was gone. 

Sitting back in the saddle and looking out to the horizon, he could see their future together. One full of love, and laughter, and peace. It was as bright as the sun shining down on him, as vast as the sky. It was laid out in front of him as far as the eye could see, endless.

**Author's Note:**

> sokka, the "can't it be both" bisexual. made me laugh when i wrote it
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr [@verdanthoney!!](https://verdanthoney.tumblr.com/)


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